


I’ll show you the world if you show me your heart

by syllkies



Series: love is an art form (and we’re the artists) [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Healing, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Minor Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Smoking, Soulmates, Suicide Attempt, Trauma, daishou suguru is a piece of shit oh my god, jfc why do i do this to myself, kuroo loves kenma, kuroo tetsurou smokes, no beta we die like men, past toxic relationship, see im not that bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:34:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28553961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syllkies/pseuds/syllkies
Summary: Kuroo’s life was one of ever-changing constants – from the way he did his hair (or lack thereof) to his favourite brand of cigarettes. Kozume Kenma, however, was the only exception.18.01.21 update: made aplaylist
Relationships: Kozume Kenma & Kuroo Tetsurou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Series: love is an art form (and we’re the artists) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2076822
Comments: 27
Kudos: 82





	1. Undertale

**Author's Note:**

> there's a few things to mention so buckle up  
> #1 - bokuaka do make an appearance, but this part is otherwise unrelated to the previous one and you can read them separately  
> #2 - there is implied/ mentioned rape/non-con, which i did put in the tags but will not be in every chapter therefore i'll put a trigger warning when necessary  
> such is the case now - rape/ non-con is implied in this chapter so read at your own risk  
> #3 - lastly, following the theme of the last part, each chapter will have a name related to a specific topic - this time video games bc of kenma, the names are unrelated to the content of chapters and are put for completely aesthetic purposes (i know nothing about games so yeah)  
> i believe this is it. i've never written anything like this before so feedback is greatly appreciated and i hope you enjoy

“You two are disgusting,” Kuroo let out a disgruntled sigh and leaned into his seat, taking a forceful bite out of the onigiri in his hand. “Tooru, back me up.”

“Never took you as the jealous type, Tetsurou,” chuckled lightly Bokuto who was on the opposite side of the table, hands all over Akaashi who was next to him. “Stop being a crybaby and get a boyfriend already.”

Kuroo mumbled under his breath about the unfairness of the situation and drowned out whatever Oikawa was saying on his right side. When he accepted the offer to go to lunch with Akaashi and Bokuto, he didn’t think he’d feel like a useless addition to their date, despite how many times they had assured him this was just “a business meet-up”, _my ass._

“I’ll go outside for a smoke if you’ll excuse me.”

“I’ll go with you.” Oikawa shot up from his seat before Kuroo could say no and the two men exited the restaurant.

Tetsurou drew a cigarette out from the creased box and offered Oikawa one before lightning his own with a lighter. The two didn’t talk; only the deep exhales with cigarette smoke leaving Kuroo’s lips filled the invisible gap between them before Oikawa finally spoke.

“You’ve been smoking a lot lately. You buy a new pack every day.”

Kuroo spared a glance at Oikawa, but when he saw the other man was expectantly looking at him, he averted his eyes, setting them on the road ahead of them. “Yeah, and?”

“Well, as your friend, I am worried about you. Is something going on?”

Kuroo took a deep drag and felt the smoke gradually enter his lungs. He took some time to exhale; slowly letting out the smoke and watching the space in front of him fill with it. “Everything’s fine, Tooru, really. You worry too much for others.”

“Is there someone else I should be worrying for?”

Tetsurou gave him an obvious look that hopefully read as _yes, you should worry about yourself_ , but for better or worse Oikawa fully ignored him and fixed the scarf around his neck. “Well, if that’s the case, I’m going back inside. You know I’m not one for the cold months.”

Kuroo gave a curt nod and lifted the cigarette to his lips. He felt a large palm on his shoulder and then a light squeeze. He internally thanked Oikawa and let a small smile spill over his features. It was nice having someone like this in your life, he supposed. In reality, there were a lot of things on his mind – like the rent he had to pay for last month, his parents’ anniversary, just to name a few. However, sharing wasn’t one of his fortes; one of Kenma’s awful habits finally rubbing off of him, he admitted in his mind, albeit a bit begrudgingly.

_Ah, Kenma._

_So that’s what this is all about._

Kenma occupying a majority of his mind wasn’t a new occurrence by any means. They’ve known each other since they were little and at that point Kuroo genuinely believed the shorter man had always had a hold on him; taking up a disproportional amount of his daily thoughts when Kuroo should be busy preparing for an interview or coming up with a new article, stopped bothering him a long time ago.

Lately, it had gotten worse; maybe it was Kuroo’s feelings growing out of the set boundaries of traditional friendships, or the way Kenma completely locked himself in his room making Kuroo worried about him twenty-four seven. Maybe they were the two sides of the same coin even. Whatever it was it was making Tetsurou uneasy and there were only so many things that could get him worked up.

He took one final drag of his cigarette and threw the butt in the trashcan outside the store. When he went back to the table, he could only be grateful he wasn’t bombarded with PDA, letting his mind take a break.

* * *

He knocked on the door, despite knowing the chances of someone opening it were slimmer than Oikawa finally getting into a stable relationship. When he received no answer, with a sigh, he reached for the flower pot on the left and took the key that was neatly placed underneath. The lamp above the entrance had burned a long time ago, no one feeling the need to replace it, so opening the door was a struggle. Kuroo entered and closed the door behind him, immediately being met with darkness. He took his shoes off and strutted to the kitchen for a glass of water, bumping in random objects that were misplaced around the house.

“Kenma?” exclaimed Kuroo, hopeless for some semblance of an answer. Disappointingly, he received none and followed the empty corridor until he reached a door at the end of it. With hesitance he opened it, poking his head through the small entrance.

Kenma was sitting in front of a large desk with copious amounts of empty energy drinks on the floor beneath it. Two computer monitors were the only source of light – harsh and cold, making Kuroo flinch. Kenma was rapidly tapping on his keyboard, seemingly in deep concentration. Suddenly, he stopped and let out a grunt, followed by a quiet string of curses. He turned his head towards Kuroo and quirked a small eyebrow.

“What are you doing here? You don’t get off work until 7.”

“It’s 11, Kenma.”

The smaller man formed a silent ‘o’ with his lips and let his shoulders fall.

“Have you eaten yet? I’ll go make us some ramen.” Kuroo quickly left, knowing full-well Kenma was going to otherwise whine about eating, and went back into the kitchen.

Shortly after, he heard feeble steps nearing the kitchen, until Kenma was in full-view, leaning on the doorframe.

“Why are you doing this?”

_Because I care for you more than you can imagine._

“As your friend it’s only right I take care of you. We both know you wouldn’t eat anything or drink water; you’d just play games all day long without a care for your health.” Kuroo settled after a short pause after Kenma’s question.

“I like it that way.”

“It’s not a good way to live.”

“Yeah, because you know what it’s like to live a fulfilling life.” spat Kenma back. Finally, Kuroo turned his entire body towards Kenma and gave him a warning look – the last thing he wanted was to start an argument as if they didn’t already have a lot of these anyway.

He knew Kenma wasn’t in the right mindset for anything, really – he didn’t eat properly, he had become distant, understandably so. Kuroo knew his disappointment and guilt were inappropriate and irrational; he had no right to feel this way, but he couldn’t help it when his heart would tug a little tighter at the sight of Kenma slipping through his fingertips.

_So close and yet so far away._

It had been like this for a long time, albeit it was still arguably better than it had been five months ago, when Kuroo had found Kenma lying on the couch – bruised and battered with nothing than a thin blanket over his shoulders.

At first Tetsurou was angry, no – livid, furious, although one could argue you couldn’t put his emotions in the confinement of a four-syllable word (Oikawa was one of those people). He wanted nothing more than to beat up the shit stain that had done that to Kenma – to make their life so miserable, Hell would seem like an unachievable paradise. 

He didn’t. He couldn’t.

Kenma asked him not to and being the love struck fool that he was, he listened. He always did.

The days, the weeks, eventually the months rolled like dice on a poker table and after Kuroo had officially moved in with Kenma , the two men found a semblance of stability. At least Kuroo hoped they had – yes, Kenma didn’t eat the way he used to and started spending more time looking at a computer screen than the sun outside, but the older man knew that was his way of coping or protecting whatever was left of his heart, especially after he refused to go to therapy.

For better or worse, however, Kuroo couldn’t bear to see his brightest star dim with the velocity of a cigarette, so he tried making small changes in the hopes he’d help Kenma awaken from the deep slumber he had fallen into. It sufficed to say his plan quickly backfired, straining his relationship with the latter more than an athlete straining their tendon. Arguments became a regular occurrence and the silence that always followed even more so. But Kuroo wasn’t going to give up, if anything that made his resolve to help Kenma even stronger.

He met Kenma’s gaze and took in every feature his face had to offer. He offered a small smile. “I never said I do.”

Kenma looked at him, a glint of regret flashing in golden his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Kuroo took one final look at Kenma before taking the ramen off the stove and motioning for Kenma to take out bowls and cutlery from the kitchen cabinets.

They sat in silence, eating peacefully and Kuroo took the spared argument as a personal win, dead-set on making many more of them.


	2. Mario kart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !! TW (and i cannot stress this enough): mentioned/ implied self-harm and suicide attempts, if you find any of this triggering, please don't take any chances reading this. you mental health is far more important than a fanfic

The sound of raindrops tapping on the window filled the otherwise quiet room. Kuroo was leaning on his headboard unable to go back to sleep after yet another nightmare. He spared a glance at the clock on his side – 3:18 AM. He lazily rubbed his face and decided to try to sleep one last time, until he heard a loud blare, coming from the other side of the apartment. He scrambled out of bed and went straight to his door only to find Kenma on the other side.

“Ah, Kuro, did I wake you up?”

“Kenma, what are you doing?”

“Well… uhm,” Kenma lowered his gaze and slumped his shoulders. “I was playing Mario and got hungry so I tried making myself some eggs, but I dropped the pan. I thought I might’ve woken you up, so I came to check up on you.”

Kuroo outwardly only hummed in response, but his insides were indecisive on whether he should reprimand Kenma for playing until late again or say he was proud of him for deciding to make himself food – something the smaller man avoided like the plague.

“Don’t worry, I was already awake when I heard you.” He finally settled, amused to see Kenma rise from his slump with a slight glint in his eyes. Kuroo felt his heart twinge and he cleared his throat, fixing his own posture. “I could help you with the eggs, if you’d like? I don’t think I’d be able to go back to sleep anyway.”

Kenma offered a small nod in agreement and the two men made their way to the kitchen.

‘Help’ was a rather broad concept, Kuroo mused as he found himself doing all the work himself. Three eggs quietly sizzled in the pan, filling the room with their aroma. Kenma was sitting on one of the high chairs on the kitchen island, seemingly staring at nothing in particular. It was at that moment Tetsurou realized the entire situation was a ‘first’ and he tucked that information like a sticky note in a cabinet in his mind.

Over the years, Kuroo had developed the habit to consciously remember everything they did for the first time together – camping in the woods, going to the sea, visiting a neighboring prefecture, first match at nationals. Indeed, they had made a lot of these types of memories, but surprisingly enough eating food in the dead of the night was not one of them.

Kuroo let a small take over his features and Kenma quirked a curious eyebrow. “What are you smiling like a psychopath for?”

“God, a man can’t smile in his own home anymore.” Kuroo turned off the stove and took two plates from a nearby cabinet, placing an egg and a half on each one and stood opposite of Kenma on the kitchen island.

“Sit down or you’ll bump your head in the lamp and I have no intention of going to the E.R. because of a concussion.”

“It’s more likely I’d get a concussion from Oikawa after he learns I ate eggs at three in the morning.”

Kenma muffled a chuckle with his hand and almost choked on the bite he was eating, but Kuroo was quick to give him a glass of water. “Man, I can’t believe Oikawa is a real person sometimes.”

“Jesus, Kenma, careful with the Oikawa slander you almost died here.”

Kuroo let the words escape his lips before he even realized and cursed himself a thousand times when he saw Kenma’s gaze darken. The latter put the glass of water down and pushed the plate of uneaten eggs further onto the island.

 _Kenma, I am so sorry,_ but no sound left his throat and Kuroo was left to pick up the pieces of his guilt on his own, helplessly watching Kenma’s back leave the suddenly-cold room. Kuroo felt the space around him physically freeze and like the air was being sucked out of him.

Death was a matter Kuroo preferred not to think about or come close to. However, life was a peculiar thing and sometimes one had no choice but to face such fears head-on, even if it meant one had to persuade their closest friend to step off the railing of a balcony or to hide very knife in a small two-bedroom apartment and keep them under lock for two months. Sometimes, Kuroo would lie wide awake, drenched in sweat in his bed after yet another nightmare, in which he reached the balcony door two minutes too late, and silently prayed he’d never have to go through that again, because as much as he hated himself for it – he was greedy and desperately in love.

For three months straight he had tirelessly grasped at the back of Kenma’s shirt in pure fear he’d slip through his fingers and even when he had let go, Kuroo wasn’t sure what part of Kenma was still alive, and what was purely existing, as cruel as it sounds. He watched the latter find new ways to make his heart beat again – starving or staying awake until the sun showed itself again. Kuroo felt a fleeting moment of relief, when he saw Kenma turning his computer on and digging his switch from underneath his bed – indirect signs he was getting better, or at the very least Kuroo saw them as such.

They never talked about the attempts or the self-harm. They let the unuttered words fill in the cracks of their mending relationship and the healing scars to serve as a reminder for an, hopefully, abandoned past. Every time Kuroo heard a video game sound blare from Kenma’s room after he had woken up, he was hopeful and all the more greedy.

Then there were moments like this, when Kuroo would get ahead of himself and forget that Kenma was still the same, but his eyes were a little darker and his body a little thinner, limbs painted with sharp brushes and muted colours.

He sat down with a loud thud and ran his hand through his messy hair. A string of curses directed towards himself left his lips and filled the excruciating silence in the room. He had half a mind to knock on Kenma’s room and apologise, beg for forgiveness even, if it meant Kenma wouldn’t direct his muted eyes towards him, but he knew a few words of atonement wouldn’t fix the present dent in their relationship and for that he hated himself even more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my first time writing for such a heavy topic, so any sort of feedback is more than welcome. i want to do this justice.


	3. GTA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's short but trust me it's important
> 
> as always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated ✨

The earth made a few turns around the sun and Kuroo yet again found himself in front of Kenma’s room, knuckles ready to knock, but feet cemented in one place and heart unmoving. He let his arm fall to his side and softly called out for Kenma.

The days after Kuroo’s slip-ups were always the hardest. Kenma would go out of his way to make sure Kuroo and he weren’t in the same room unless it was absolutely necessary and sometimes would only ever leave his room to go to the bathroom. At times it felt like all life was sucked out of the small apartment. At the same time Kuroo would make it a point to find as many distractions as possible throughout the day whether that would be to listen to Oikawa’s relationship complaints or going out with Akaashi and Bokuto to grab lunch, but the second he was back in the apartment he was reminded of his guilt and lapse in judgment.

An endless, vicious cycle they put themselves through like maniacal masochists. 

Suddenly, the door opened in front of him to reveal Kenma still in his pyjamas. He motioned for Kuroo to enter his room and silently sat down on his chair. Hesitantly, Kuroo entered and closed the door behind him. He stood near the door like a child ready to be reprimanded by their parents, but Kenma nodded in the direction of his bed and Tetsurou obediently plopped down. 

Kuroo fidgeted with his fingers in his lap until he looked up. “Kenma, liste–,”

The smaller man lifted his hand in the air as if to prevent Kuroo from talking further and cleared his throat. “Why do you always have to explain yourself? I am not mad, nor am I offended.”

Kuroo sat in silence, unable to take in the information thrown in his face. As if picking up on his confusion (because as much as Kuroo thought he knew himself, Kenma knew him better), Kenma continued. “I thought you might blame yourself, but I never expected you to go this far. You’ve done nothing wrong, Kuro. You have nothing to apologise for.” 

Kuroo wanted to say a weight had been lifted off his shoulders because, in reality, he had thought about what it would be like for Kenma to ease his mind. Surprisingly enough, however, it was nothing like what he had expected. The guilt in his heart still tugged at it like a vicious beast ready to devour it whole, and his mind felt dizzy, drunk on disbelief. 

Nonetheless, he didn’t want to worry Kenma and simply nodded. “I understand. I’ll stop doing that since it bothers you.” 

“That’s not what I–,” Kenma sighed and leaned into his chair. “Nevermind.” 

A pregnant pause followed and neither of them looked at each other, nor moved. Nonetheless, it was better than the last time a silence made its presence known between the two of them and Tetsurou wasn’t going to let the opportunity go. 

“Say, you want to order some takeout?” 

_ Because the days after were always the lightest.  _


	4. Genshin impact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the oikawa/ kenma ordeal is the most random self-indulgent thing I've ever done,, anyways have some fluff 
> 
> as always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated (.❛ ᴗ ❛.)

Colourful sounds, coming from the tv in the living room, filled the apartment. The sound of fingers tapping against console buttons echoed in Kuroo’s ears and after the third consecutive k.o. from Kenma’s overpowered character he let the game console fall in his lap. 

“This is unfair.”

“It’s not my problem you suck, Kuro.” 

The latter was about to rebut when the familiar beep of a microwave rang and Kuroo stood up to retrieve the left-over pizza. He left the plate on the small coffee table and grabbed the pack of cigarettes, laying on the armchair next to the sofa. He opened the window in the room and sat on the frame, letting his legs dangle on each of the two sides. He lit a cigarette and looked at Kenma who was staring at him. 

“You’re going to fall.”

“We live on the first floor, in case you’ve forgotten.” Kuroo let a small chuckle escape him and he took a drag from his cigarette.

Kenma seemed to understand the insinuation and he took a small bite from the piece of pizza in his hand. Kuroo deeply exhaled and let his gaze linger on Kenma longer than the latter would be usually comfortable with. He was sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed, an oversized hoodie and sweatpants drowning his figure. They were Kuroo’s. Sharing clothes want something out of the ordinary by a long shot, but it was a Sunday and Sundays always felt different. 

Kuroo attributed it to the fact that the first time Kenma had left his room after a month of closing himself in it was a Sunday. That day Kuroo and he just stayed in the same room, comfortable with the silence – Kuroo was reading a book on the armchair, Kenma was simply laying on the couch, looking at the ceiling. At first, Kuroo had thought it would be just a one-time thing, but the situation repeated itself a couple more times and with time Sundays became _their_ day. They would play Monopoly or discuss the most random things, they would watch tv and only recently they turned to games to pass their free time. Of course, it wasn’t without its downfalls. Kenma’s mood could plummet as fast as it could sky-rocket and sometimes they would have to stop in the middle of a game, sometimes they wouldn’t even finish it. But Kuroo was patient; when it came to Kenma – he was everything the latter needed him to be. 

Kuroo let a small smile spill over his features and he stubbed out his cigarette in the ash-tray. Looking at Kenma sitting comfortably on the couch and eating left-over pizza gave Kuroo a sudden surge of confidence (and hope such tranquillity would continue). 

“Kenma, do you want to go for a walk?” 

The smaller man didn’t look up. He put the pizza back on the plate and started playing with his fingers, his left foot began to bounce almost unnoticeable. Kuroo sensed the discomfort and he opened his mouth to back down on his statement, but Kenma beat him to it.

“I guess, it wouldn’t hurt to go out. But on one condition.”

Perhaps Kuroo felt a little too excited than he should have, but he couldn’t help but grin. “Yes, whatever you’d like.” 

“Can Oikawa come?” 

* * *

Kuroo knew Kenma liked Oikawa, and vice versa. They had met almost two years ago when Kuroo started working at his current job. Oikawa and Akaashi were there before him and quickly took him under their wing. The lunches and late nights the three spent together quickly blossomed in something more than just pleasantries between colleagues and six months later Kuroo had introduced Kenma to them. Much to Kuroo’s dismay, he hit it off with Oikawa almost immediately. Although in hindsight it shouldn’t have come to a surprise – Oikawa might be easy to hate, but it’s way easier to love him. 

“Played a new game recently, Kenma-chan?” Oikawa’s voice sliced through the cold air and Kuroo straightened his body to take a better look at the two men that were a little ahead of him. 

“Can’t say. I’ve been getting back into the classics. How’s work? Kuro doing things he’s not supposed to be?” 

Oikawa snickered at the comment and under normal circumstances, Kuroo would’ve yelled back, but seeing Kenma at ease with a familiar face made his heart beat faster than it should have. 

“Please, Kuro-chan’s a darling. Akaashi is the real problem.”

“That so? What is he doing? Skipping work because of that painter?” 

Kuroo made an off-hand comment about how Kenma should start taking pills for memory, so he could finally memorise Bokuto’s name. Kenma threw him a dirty look and turned his attention to Oikawa who was explaining how ‘the two lovebirds’ six month anniversary is coming up and they’ll go on a trip to the sea.’. 

“I don’t understand them. Who goes to the sea in the middle of November? If Akaashi comes back with a cold, I’m slam-dunking Bokuto onto the floor.” 

Kenma let out a chuckle and ducked his head into the collar of the jacket. One of Kuroo’s, once again. “You know, Akashi used to say the same things when you and Iwaizumi were together. Consider it karma.” 

Oikawa murmured something under his breath that Kuroo couldn’t make out and announced he was craving yakisoba. 

The place they ended up at was a small family restaurant with a few tables and even fewer people in it. It was warm and low yellow lights hung from the ceiling, contrasting the cold weather from the outside and the early evening that was quickly catching up with the setting sun. They talked with low murmurs until their food came and Kuroo felt his heart swell, seeing Kenma eating from their shared plate and immersing himself into a conversation with Oikawa. It was one of those quiet moments of normalcy Kuroo craved – when his mind wouldn’t fill to the brim with worry and didn’t feel like wrapping his arms around Kenma to protect him. 

He knew neither of these actions was called for, much less wanted. But spending your entire life with someone triggered instincts you didn’t think you had. 

“... So in short, I’ll have to steal Kuro-chan for a few days if you don’t mind.” 

Kuroo shook his head and looked at Oikawa – he had missed the entirety of the conversation. 

“Take him all you want. As if I could ever mind.”

Kuroo’s heart shouldn’t have fallen in his feat with the disappointment it did. He knew that (but he couldn’t help it either way). 

“What are we talking about?” 

“The trip to Kyoto Akaashi and I had to go to, but he would be busy getting engaged, so you’re gonna have to come with me.” 

The gears in Kuroo’s mind finally started spinning. “Bokuto plans to propose on their trip?”

A curt nod. 

“Then you leave me no choice but to come, huh?” 

“I wasn’t planning on giving you a choice, to begin with. Who am I supposed to go with? Semi? Not happening.” 

Kenma’s breathy chuckle put an end to the conversation and they began eating their food. 

* * *

It was somewhere past nine when they bid their goodbyes to Oikawa and entered the quiet apartment. The air of unquestionable bliss filled the space around them like a thick fog and Kuroo wanted to suffocate in it. He watched Kenma take off his shoes and the oversized jacket, lazily putting them back in their respective places. Suddenly, he turned around and made a hesitant step towards Kuroo. 

“Kuro, thank you for today. I… I enjoyed myself.”

Kuroo let out a breathy chuckle. “I didn’t really do much. You should be thanking Oikawa, really.” 

“No, Kuro.” Kenma shook his head in mild disagreement. “It’s always you.” 

Not waiting for a response, he went further into the apartment, leaving Kuroo alone in the entree – confused and delighted; with a heart beating awfully fast and a head spinning like the tires of a moving car.


	5. Minecraft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is... something  
> does it count as angst/ comfort? no idea,, i'll leave that up to you
> 
> i'm gonna put a TW just in case - there is implied/ insinuated suicide attempt
> 
> as always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated

The moon changed its shape a few times and one rainy morning Kuroo found himself unwillingly putting clothes in a brown duffel bag. Business trips weren’t necessarily something he disliked but following Kenma’s one-sided assault on his feelings, he was hesitant. 

It had been a few days since then and they had fallen in their previous familiar rhythm. There were the quiet mornings after Kenma had pulled an all-nighter and Kuroo had to go to work early – the latter would make coffee for both of them and they would share a calm moment in the wake of a new day. The evenings they would eat dinner and Kuroo would complain about Akaashi and Bokuto and the encompassing nausea of seeing two people in love; Kenma would laugh and offer an off-hand comment about Kuroo and Oikawa getting together so they could get back at them. Kuroo would laugh it off, but not the building disappointment in his gut. 

Perhaps, he was reading too much into the careful stares Kenma would spare his way or the way the soft skin of his fingers would brush against his own. It made him dizzy and the loud pounding of his heart rang in his ears like an alarm and he had to remind himself to stay grounded. Still, he couldn’t deny himself the fleeting moment of blissful delight that perhaps, one day, Kenma might return all the feelings Kuroo was pouring out. He would collect them like rainwater and he would water the seed of mutual affection. 

_ Wishful thinking _ , bitterly thought Kuroo and packed the last of his clothes and necessities. 

He heard the loud blaring coming from Oikawa’s car outside and with a sigh, he left his room. Kenma was waiting in the entree, game in hand. His hair was falling in front of his face and his fingers barely showed from the sleeves of the oversized hoodie he was wearing. Kuroo smiled at the recognition of his own garment and let the bag fall to the floor so he could put on his shoes. 

“Remember to eat and drink lots of water. And don’t pull many all-nighters; it’s not good for you.”

“Okay, mom. Are you done?” 

Kuroo shot him a grin and patted his shoulder after sliding on his coat and putting the duffel bag over his shoulders. “You can call me anytime if something happens.” 

Kenma demonstratively rolled his eyes and stopped paying attention to his game so he could look at Kuroo. “Kuro, I’m not a child, I can take care of myself. Go have fun on your business trip.” 

Kuroo let out a dry laugh and remarked one couldn’t have fun on a business trip with Oikawa Tooru. He took one last look at Kenma before finally leaving and gingerly taking a seat in Oikawa’s car. 

“Took you long enough, love bird.” 

“You’re one to talk. Now start driving – it’s a long way to Kyoto.” 

* * *

A loud thunder shook Kuroo awake from his deep slumber and begrudgingly he straightened himself in the bed. He looked around and made a quiet sound of disgust upon the view of empty sake bottles on the coffee table. At least that would explain why he felt as if his head was split open. He gazed at Oikawa who was on the other side of the bed – face mushed by the pillow and feet dangling off the bed still in his work attire; Kuroo let out a small chuckle. The clock on the bedside showed 3:14 am and Kuroo made a few hesitant steps towards the bathroom after pushing himself off the bed. 

The water from the sink was cold and most welcoming. Kuroo drank until he no longer felt like a dry piece of orange peel that was left in the sun and went back to lay in the bed. 

The night before was sort of a blur – the dinner, the drinking with Oikawa. If Kuroo was being honest, the entire trip felt like a smudge on paper. It wasn’t as bad as he made it out to be to Kenma, sure but nonetheless, he was grateful they only had a day left. He was getting homesick. 

He attempted to fall asleep again. He tossed and turned, tried taking the same position as Oikawa but once the clock struck 4:08 he gave up and began fishing for his phone. The bright harsh light made him question his choices until he lowered it and started mindlessly scrolling through social media. Food posts, cat memes, ads for gaming chairs and keyboards littered his screen, but he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention even to a glaring distraction such as this one. He thought about a boy, currently alone in Tokyo, pulling an all-nighter. 

He considered calling Kenma as he was sure the latter would answer, but the fear of interrupting a game session turned his mind the other way. Then, he thought of waking Oikawa up, but then he remembered the latter would gauge out his eyes and abandoned the idea just as quickly as he thought of it. Suddenly, Akaashi’s profile made an appearance on his Instagram feed and the sight of a ring around his fourth finger made him nauseous. He was happy for him, for Bokuto, truly he was and tried his best to push the images of Bokuto crashing in their office at the back of his mind. Right where envy and disappointment proudly stood like the statues of Greek gods. 

With a sigh, he locked his phone and turned his head towards the window. A flash of faraway lightning split the storm clouds apart and Kuroo flinched. The rain poured as if it were the tears of a heartbroken goddess and furiously tapped the window. Kuroo immersed himself in the sound and felt his eyes close heavily. An abrupt sound coming from his phone forced him to open them not even a second later. His phone was ringing and Kuroo was more than ready to either reject the call or curse whoever was on the other side of the line.

Kenma was calling. Kuroo’s eyes widened and he straightened his form before picking up the call. “Ah, Kenma, how nice of you to call. Anything the matter? Did you lose a game?” 

The silence on the other end made his gut twist and his heart fall in his feat. He called out Kenma’s name once more, then twice. Kuroo looked at the caller ID, maybe he had made a mistake, but with bright white letters, his screen read KENMA. Suddenly, a loud sniffle was heard on the other end of the line and Kuroo placed the phone back on his ear. 

“Kuro, why are you up?”

“Kenma, are you crying? Oh, god. Please, tell you’re fine.” 

“I didn’t want you to pick up. I was hoping you wouldn’t. You’re supposed to be asleep right now.” 

“Kenma, where are you right now?” Kuroo felt the way time suddenly froze. His mind raced faster than a race car and he thought his heart might beat out of his cage. He shook Oikawa until the latter finally made a sign he was awake. A string of curses followed, but once he saw Kuroo’s panicked expression he sat in the bed and motioned towards the phone. Kuroo put it on speaker and repeated after a moment of silence. 

“Where are you?”

“The living room.”

Oikawa shot Kuroo a confused expression and silently mouthed ‘what’s going on?’.

“Are you sure?” Kuroo scrambled to his bag and managed to pull out a piece of paper and a pen. Quickly, he scribbled on the paper, explaining the situation and passed it to Oikawa. 

“Yes, I’m on the couch.” 

“Why did you call me?”

“Can’t I?”

“You said you hoped I wouldn’t pick up.”

Kenma let out a small chuckle, then another. They were airy and dry until they grew into low sniffles. Kuroo’s heart ached with agony and he immediately looked at Oikawa. The latter quickly understood and wordlessly started rummaging through the mess in their room. 

“Kenma? Are you in the living room still?” 

“He came. He came here, Kuro. I opened the door and there he stood in all his glory. I wanted to throw up.”

Another sniffle. 

“I don’t know why he came. I immediately closed the door in his face.”

Despite himself, Kuroo let a tiny small creep up his face. “That’s… that’s good.” 

Out of nowhere, a blare from an incoming ambulance resounded from the other end of the line. “Kenma, you’re not in the living room, are you?”

“He came three hours ago. I thought I was fine. I really did.” 

Kuroo’s eyes widened in shock. He searched for Oikawa and saw the other man victoriously standing in the middle of their room with car keys in hand. Hastily, they put on their jackets and shoes and ran towards the car in the parking lot. The rain cascaded down every crevice of the buildings and streets. Kuroo felt his shoes fill up with water. The noise of thunders trampled with his sense of hearing and he could barely pick up the words coming from his own mouth. They made it to the car and the engine roared in the dead of night. 

* * *

Kuroo was sure they had broken two-thirds of the driving codex by the time they reached Tokyo. The sun was beginning to wake from its slumber and the bright light forced Oikawa to slow down. Kuroo still had Kenma on speaker and was almost certain he had left the balcony.

_ Almost _ . Until the call cut off and Oikawa stepped on the gas as if his life depended on it. Well, at least someone’s life did. 

They reached the two-floor house and Kuroo’s gaze flashed over to the balcony. A chilled wave of relief washed over him when he didn’t see a figure standing on it. He struggled to open the door and didn’t even bother to take off his shoes as he sped through the corridor to Kenma’s room. He vaguely noted Oikawa entering and closing behind himself. Without a second left to think he banged on the door and called out Kenma’s name. The following silence resembled something far more terrifying than the nightmares he had been suffering from for the past months. The subsequent sound of the door opening, he mused, must be greater than the one you hear before the pearly gates. 

The second Kenma’s outgrown roots showed themselves Kuroo had to contain every ounce of willpower he could muster not to throw himself onto the smaller man. Kenma, however, couldn’t share the sentiment. The weight of Kenma’s body forced both of them on the floor and this time Kuroo couldn’t help himself. He wrapped his arms around the petite figure and closed the distance between them until their bodies clung to each other the way water clung to Kuroo’s blouse. 

Struggling, Kuroo separated their bodies and cupped Kenma’s face with his hands so he could force him to look at him. “God, I felt my soul leave my body.”

“I’m sorry. Thank you.” 

Kuroo caught the glossiness in Kenma’s eyes and pulled him back into a hug. “Just you being here is more than thankyou.”


	6. Call of duty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!TW: mentioned suicide attempt 
> 
> BUT, comfort to soften last chapter's blow,, things are looking up 
> 
> as always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated and i hope you enjoy ٩(｡•́‿•̀｡)۶

The shift in their relationship could be compared to the way water retracts back minutes before a tsunami hits– sudden, bone-chilling, almost exhilarating. The adrenaline rush Kuroo felt in his veins every time Kenma brushed their fingers and his hand lingered or every time his gaze remained long after their conversation was over sent shivers down his spine. Seemingly, Kenma also spent less time inside the comforts in his room, but rather in the presence of Kuroo and the quiet ambience of blissful fondness. Kuroo wasn’t about to complain, graciously accepting whatever affection Kenma was ready to provide within his boundaries. 

Still, since the rather intimate moment they shared in front of Oikawa they hadn’t talked about that night (if one could even consider a hug a way of discussing a problem). Kuroo knew the conversation was something Kenma wanted to avoid for obvious reasons and Kuroo wasn’t one to pry information out of him unless absolutely necessary. Two weeks later, however, he finally decided to grow some balls and initiate a conversation about what had transpired. Life isn’t all roses and honey and sometimes you have to get dirty with all the grit and grime it offers your way. 

It was a surprisingly sunny morning (ironic, considering the morbid topic of conversation) when Kuroo had made coffee for both of them and they had sat on the kitchen island in comfortable silence. Admittedly, discussing trauma wasn’t what one might imagine in terms of a peaceful Saturday morning but Kuroo also understood that it was now or never so he cleared his throat.

“Hey, uhm... “ a deep breath “I want to discuss something with you.”

Kenma looked up from his cup and leaned his face onto the palm of his left hand. “Shoot.” 

“You’re not gonna like it.” 

“Kuro, just spill it.” 

“I want you to fully hear me out before you do anything, alright?” 

“Kuro.” 

The latter cleared his throat again and hid his eyes behind his bed hair. “It’s about two weeks ago.” 

Kenma formed an ‘ah’ with his lips but no sound left his mouth. He seemed inclined on listening, though, not moving an inch so Kuroo hesitantly continued. “You really scared me back then and this might sound really insensitive, but did you really mean it? When… when you were...,”

“On the balcony?” Kenma offered. He looked rather calm about the entire ordeal, eyes not even once leaving Kuroo’s quivering figure. He was slouched in his seat and Kuroo might’ve thought he was relaxed if it weren’t for the glint of unmistakable sadness in his eyes. “I don’t know. I guess I considered it.” a pregnant pause and a quieter, “I think I might’ve done it if you hadn’t answered.” 

“You said you were hoping I wouldn’t.” 

Kenma gripped tightly the mug in his hand and swallowed hard. His nonchalant composure broke and he slumped in his seat, both of his hands left the surface of the island top and rested in his lap. He turned his eyes to them and Kuroo noticed the way he began fidgeting with his fingers. He almost offered to stop but Kenma continued. “I told myself that if you answered I wouldn’t jump. Then you did and stayed on the phone with me until you reached Tokyo.”

“You cut off the call.” 

“I was–” Kenma made an abrupt stop as if his own mind couldn’t keep up with his thoughts, searching for the right word. “I was overwhelmed.” 

Silence fell the same way it did after a storm was over, leaving everyone else to pick up the pieces of whatever was left like shattered glass. Kuroo thoughtfully chewed his lower lip and carefully regarded Kenma. He hadn’t expected the conversation to go this way, although in hindsight it might be better to say he hadn’t expected anything, to begin with. Maybe only hoping to get a better understanding of Kenma’s bizarre closeness in the past days. 

“I am glad you told me all this.” He finally settled and anxiously awaited the latter’s reaction. Kenma looked up and the corners of his lips curled in the faintest of smiles, his eyes glossy. 

“I‘m glad you asked.” 

A sudden wave of unexpected confidence and assurance washed over Kuroo and he abruptly stood up from his seat. He crossed the short distance to the opposite side of the kitchen island and settled on Kenma’s side. The smaller man turned his body to meet Kuroo’s and shot him a curious look. Then, Kuroo wrapped his arms around the petite figure, electricity running throughout his entire body; from the top of his head to the tips of his toenails. Like a magnet with opposite force, Kenma mirrored the action and buried his head in Kuroo’s chest. They held each other for a few very long heartbeats until Kuroo finally pulled away. He felt like his entire body was on fire and was almost certain his face was a clear reflection of that. He fought the feeling of his toes curling with excitement but welcomed the way his heartbeat was resonating throughout his entire body. 

“Kuro, thank you.” 

“For you, always.” 


	7. Assassin's creed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now here's some real fluff 
> 
> as always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated ( ´ ▽ ` )

Despite its apparent importance in recent times and Kuroo’s vague knowledge of it, the first snow was actually a rather quiet affair. The only mildly remarkable thing about it was the fact it fell exactly on the first of December as if officially marking the beginning of the holiday season. 

Kuroo was gingerly stirring hot chocolate in a small pot while Kenma was curled up in what one might call a ‘blanket burrito’ with a plethora of stuffed animals surrounding him. He was watching the telephone screen in his lap, soft noises coming from the speakers and was surprisingly the first one to notice snowflakes falling softly outside. 

“Kuro, it’s snowing.” 

The latter turned to the windows on his left and a smile small crept up his features upon seeing winter finally making an appearance. “Indeed, it is. Perfect timing that I’m making hot chocolate then.” Kuroo shot Kenma a lazy grin and his heart leapt forward at Kenma’s figure. His small frame was barely straightened and he was looking directly outside the window. His hair outlined the sides of his face. He looked, dared Kuroo to say, ethereal. Kuroo’s breath caught in his throat and it took whatever will he could muster in averting his gaze back to the warm pot.

A few minutes later the snow had already begun falling in larger pieces and pilling up outside, painting everything in pure white. Kuroo drizzled some caramel on top of the hot beverages and made his way to the couch. He put both mugs on the small coffee table and with a loud thud positioned himself next to Kenma. 

“What are you watching?” 

“Some youtuber. Shouldn’t you be getting ready for work?” 

“There’s time. And besides, if I had to count on the weather, I don’t think I’d be going to work today.” 

Kenma let out a soft chuckle and looked up from his phone. His golden eyes pierced Kuroo’s, leaving a trail of shivers down the latter’s arm. “You’re so lazy. You say that now but if Oikawa was to call you now, you’d be running out the door in no time.” 

“Gee, can’t let a man enjoy a quiet morning in a nice company, can you? Not to mention, it’s snowing, isn’t that at least a little exciting?” 

“You find frozen water falling from the sky exciting?” 

“What? I–” Kuroo wheezed and looked away. “I guess that’s what I mean, yes. I read recently that it’s important who you spend the first snow with.” 

“Ah, the soulmate thing?” Kenma took the mug in front of him in his hands and fell silent for a few moments. “Well, technically speaking the first snow of this year was back in January and if I remember correctly I was with my mother at the time, so... “ he trailed off and took a small sip from the beverage. 

“Both of us know that’s not what the first snow means, Kenma.” Kuroo felt a bolt of electricity run down his spine at his words and his eyes fell back on Kenma. The latter mimicked the action. They stared each other down, gold meeting hazel and melting together like a pot of precious metals. Kuroo felt like the world was at a standstill, holding its breath and waiting for something exceptional to happen. 

_And then it did._

Kenma moved forward until him and Kuroo were centimetres apart. The latter could feel Kenma’s soft breaths tingling his face and fought the urge to close his eyes because he didn’t want to lose the sight in front of him. Kenma placed one of his hands on his side as if to support his body weight and gently closed his eyes. Kuroo’s heart throbbed with expectation and giddiness, bordering on physical pain. Hesitantly, he closed his own eyes and leaned in until his phone’s loud ringtone resounded in the room and both Kenma and he opened their eyes. They pulled away and Kenma covered his furiously reddening face. Kuroo cursed a thousand times over and reluctantly picked up his phone. 

“This better be important.” He listened intently, creasing his eyebrows in annoyance. After a minute or so he finished the call and turned to Kenma. “Oikawa... uhm…. he’s waiting outside to pick me up so... “ 

“Yeah, of course. Go ahead.” 

Kuroo abruptly stood up and bumped his legs multiple times into the coffee table until he finally left the suddenly stuffy living room. While putting his shoes and thick coat on, he consciously repeated over and over again the mental image of the beating he was about to give Oikawa. Once done, he yelled a quick ‘goodbye’ and without waiting for an answer, he left the apartment. The snow was falling at an alarming rate and prickled at his skin like needles. After a few very long moments of struggling, he made it to Oikawa’s car parked on the opposite side of the street. 

“I’ll strangle you with my bare hands.” He muttered while fidgeting in his seat to put a seatbelt on. 

“Excuse you? I’m gracious enough to pick you up in this weather and this is how you show your gratitude? Next time, I’ll leave you to freeze while waiting for the bus.” 

Kuroo didn’t answer. He leaned further into his seat and focused his eyes on the road ahead of them, replaying Kenma’s eyes in his mind. 

* * *

“Akaashi, I keep telling you he’s been throwing me dirty looks all day and all I’ve done was to pick him up!”

“Ask him about it then. I don’t know what you expect me to do.” 

“I already did, he refuses to answer me. Ask him in my stead, I’m sure he’ll tell you.” 

Oikawa’s whisper-yelling echoed in the mostly-empty office and Kuroo had to force himself not to look up from his computer screen and to take a jab at Oikawa. 

“Kuroo-san, is anything the matter today? You’ve been awfully silent?” Akaashi’s clear voice filled the air. 

“I’ve been silent only to those who deserve it.” Kuroo replied matter-of-factly and continued tapping his keyboard. This article about a new gallery opening was draining him in unimaginable ways. 

“Oh, come on, Tetsu! Just spill the beans! Did something happen between you and Kenma? You had an argument and now you’re inexplicably taking it out on me?” 

At this, Kuroo finally stopped in his tracks and with a sigh, he moved his chair closer to where Oikawa and Akaashi were seated. “Fine, I’ll put you out of your misery. Something did happen between me and Kenma, yes.” 

Oikawa looked at him expectantly as if nudging him to continue. 

“We almost kissed. But then, you decided to call me and ruined the moment, so thank you very much for cock-blocking me I guess.” 

Oikawa put a hand over his mouth in surprise and Akasahi’s eyes ever so slightly widened. 

“Oh my god, Testurou! I am never picking you up ever again!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the part below the line is kind of like a bonus??? but it’s cute so i kept it yuh


	8. Super Smash Bros

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!TW: implied/ referenced rape, abuse; unhealthy/ toxic relationship 
> 
> as always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated

Staying true to his word, Oikawa never picked him up again. With that being said, that didn’t necessarily mean the opportunity would arise to get close to Kenma like _that_ again. Kuroo understood that; _crystal clear,_ he would tell himself every day under the shower, during their shared mornings and dinners and special Sundays. However, as much as his brain reasoned he should stop his daydreaming, his heart and soul were screaming to go up to Kenma and feel his lips against his own. His very being was split into two distinct sides of the same coin, each day a fight between his rationale and emotions. Today, he didn’t know which one was winning. 

With a heavy sigh, he turned off his computer and leaned in the chair. “Oi, wanna go out for a drink? One last time, before the holidays.” 

Oikawa’s eyes flickered between his phone screen and Kuroo as if sizing up his options. After a moment of silence, he offered a gentle smile and a clear ‘yes’. They closed the office and strolled down the streets of night Tokyo. It was nearing ten and yet the entire city was wide awake; neon signs and boisterous laughter coming from bars and restaurants painting the darkness with unescapable light. They stopped at one of the quieter bars after walking for awhile. The inside was warm, low lights hanging from the ceiling illuminated the small space. They sat on the high chair surrounding the bar itself and ordered a bottle of sake. 

“Any progress with Kenma?” prompted Oikawa, taking a small sip from his glass, eyes fixated in front of him. 

“Yes? No? I’m not sure. Some days he looks at me as if I’m the only person left in the world and others like I’m some old acquaintance from high school he no longer cares about.” 

“Harsh way to put it, no?” chuckled Oikawa and glanced at Kuroo, “He needs time, Tetsu.” 

“I know. That’s why I let him do however he pleases. I don’t want to make him feel rushed or cornered.” 

“Continue talking like that and I might end up falling in love with you.” Oikawa poured himself another drink and offered one to Kuroo. The latter gladly accepted. 

“Iwaizumi would beat me up.”

“Yeah, because he gives a shit about my feelings.” Oikawa took a swig from his drink and stared somewhere far into the distance. Kuroo noticed the way sadness laced his features, grief filling his eyes like bitter tears. He had half a mind to prompt Oikawa to continue speaking, but with alcohol present at the table, his idea soon diminished. Instead, he mimicked his friend’s action because are you really close if you don’t drink together, mulling over love. 

Kuroo didn’t remember how long they stayed; he only recalled the owner shooing them away near midnight ( _‘What kind of bar closes at midnight?’ after a moment of silence, Oikawa answered, giggling ‘A lame one.’_ ). He was well aware of the fact he wasn’t drunk, Oikawa, however, couldn’t say the same for himself. Kuroo hailed him a cab and forced him to promise to call him once he reached his apartment. The latter reluctantly agreed, after throwing a small tantrum and declaring he’d call “Lovely Iwa-chan”. Kuroo couldn’t argue at that; he shoved his friend into the cab and requested the driver took him home safely, then he began walking towards the bus stop. 

The thought of seeing Kenma after a long day flooded his mind immediately and he felt giddiness spreading in his stomach like flapping butterflies. Luck appeared to be on his side tonight because as he reached the bus stop, the vehicle rolled down the street and made an abrupt stop right in front of Kuroo. Gingerly, he climbed inside and stood straight, too excited to even take a seat. Upon climbing out to his stop, he smiled at the sight of low light emitting from Kenma’s closed window. 

Suddenly, another light flickered in the distance, the fixed lightbulb above their entrance door– a dark figure stood in front of it and raised their arm to ring the bell. Kuroo’s heart dropped in his feet and his long strides turned into a sprint until he reached the front of his house. The door was opened, Kenma was peaking from the inside, his eyes widened in fright. The shadowy figure turned around upon hearing Kuroo’s laboured breaths from the running. Despite his gut-feeling, Kuroo still gripped tightly at the hope (or perhaps, naivety) that the person in front of him wouldn’t be the one he thought they were. The thought about luck earlier was thrown out the window. 

“What are you doing here?” Kuroo gathered himself and flickered his eyes to Kenma. _God, please go inside._

“What? I can’t visit an old friend now?” 

Kuroo narrowed his eyes and quickly spat back. “If you know what’s good for you, you’d leave.” 

The figured loomed over him from his place on the steps and smiled maliciously. “I don’t think so.”

Kuroo had to give him credit, Daisho was one persistent son of a bitch. He had never liked him ever since Kenma had first introduced them over two years ago. Daisho had both the appearance and the stance of an asshole and what a lowly understatement that was. Kuroo tried giving chances, multiple at that, only mildly assured by Kenma’s empty words. Then, his love began showing up to their weekly catch-ups with bruises. Kenma tried passing them off as a simple burn on a pan, a jab from a cupboard, soon enough his excuses began drying up like a well in heated summer and Kuroo’s gut-feeling that something ghastly was going on grew tenfold. During their entire relationship Kenma behaved differently; the spark from his eyes dimming with every day; his smile only ever appearing once every blue moon. Then, seven months ago Kuroo had found Kenma on the couch in his apartment couch, shivering and fear written across his gentle features. Kuroo cursed himself a thousand times over for never trying hard enough; for letting himself be put under false assurance from Kenma’s words. 

His dislike grew into seething hatred and despite Kenma’s pleading, he secretly waited for an opportunity like this one– for Daisho to make an appearance just so Kuroo could make him regret being born in the first place. 

“I’m not going to repeat myself. Leave or else.” 

“Else what?” Daisho inquired, folding his arms in front of his chest, his lips forming a taunting smirk. 

“Oh, I don’t know. Call the cops, beat the shit out of you, pick your poison.” Kuroo replied and added after a momentary pause. “Maybe even both. I’m in a good mood.” 

Daisho opened his mouth to retort but a small voice from behind beat him to it. 

“Kuro, leave it.” Kenma’s words echoed in Kuroo’s ears and he craned his neck to look at him. Kenma hadn’t moved from his place near the door frame, ever so slightly shivering and Kuroo could only hope it was from the cold. 

“My, you leant how to talk.” Daisho’s words were full of spite and condescension and Kuroo leapt through a few steps until he was face to face with him. 

“And you should learn how to shut up.” 

“Kuro.” Kenma’s stern voice sliced through the cold winter air once again and Kuroo turned to him. Much to his dismay and genuine fascination, Kenma’s eyes were filled with something other than the initial fright he had seen in them. They were brimming with something Kuroo could only paint as fierce determination and fearsome calmness. Kuroo’s chest swelled and almost let out a small smile until he remembered who was still in front of him. 

“You hit the jackpot tonight, bastard. I’ll graciously prolong your time outside of the ICU. But let me be fucking clear,” Kuroo made one more step towards Daisho until he was certain the latter could feel his breath fan over his face. “You come here one more time, I’ll make sure you never leave it.” 

Daisho audibly scoffed and shoved Kuroo out of his way, furiously descending the stairs. Kuroo followed his back until he made sure Daisho had reached his car and finally left. Kuroo turned his body to meet Kenma, but rather the satisfaction and relief he was expecting, something akin to disappointment and a scowl graced Kenma’s features. 

They silently made their way inside and despite the momentary feeling of victory he felt earlier, Kuroo was a nervous wreck. Had he fucked up? He certainly didn’t feel like it but clearly, Kenma had a different view on the situation. 

“Kuro,” Kenma’s voice resonated in the living room as he made his way towards the kitchen counter to pour himself some water. “I remember telling you not to deal with him.” 

“Kenma, what the hell?” Kuroo blurted out instinctively, although he felt very much justified. “He was back here to harass you and you’re telling me to leave him alone?” 

“I already told you I’d like it if you don’t involve yourself.”

“I’m doing this because I care about you!”

On the spur of the moment, Kenma slammed the empty glass on the kitchen counter and turned to face Kuroo. “If you care about me then you’d stop when I ask you to. Empty threats lead nowhere.” after a short pause he added, “And besides, I don’t think he’ll return.” 

Kuroo’s gut brewed with frustration and he let out an exasperated sigh. He wasn’t going to let this go. He had already made the mistake not to act on his intuition once before and wasn’t going to repeat it this time around. 

“If you say so. Goodnight, Kenma.” He finally muttered and turned on his heel to retreat to his room. Admittedly, going to sleep after an unresolved argument had never served in anyone’s favour, but then again the tension in the living room wasn’t beneficial either. Kuroo was prideful, yes; but common sense wasn’t something that escaped him easily either. Lying in his bed that night, he could at least admit to himself that much. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah,, daishou  
> i just hope his stans dont come for me <33


	9. League of Legends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little on the shorter side but the next one will include a lot of stuff 
> 
> as always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated ٩(◕‿◕)۶

“Tetsu, it’s been two weeks.”

“I can work some more.”

“It’s the holidays.” a momentary pause and a loud scoff, “Tetsu, whatever argument you had with Kenma, you should work on it at home. It’s pointless to work until late in the hopes of not running into him. In your shared apartment, if I might add.”

Kuroo lifted his gaze from the bright computer screen and took in Oikawa’s form in front of him. A scowl was lacing the latter’s features, left hand on his hip and a work bag in his other. He had the posture of someone confident in himself; not completely unfounded, Kuroo found himself agreeing. By all means, Oikawa was correct. Overworking himself was going to get his and Kenma’s relationship exactly nowhere if one could even call it a relationship anymore.

It seemed more like a simple acquaintance in recent times; two people sharing an apartment for the simple reason of lessening living expenses. The gap their last argument had left was bigger than initially anticipated and neither of them was keen on backing down, much to Kuroo’s personal horror. He was being hypocritical, of course, but it was always easier to blame someone else for your own shortcomings. 

He didn’t bother arguing further with Oikawa. He turned his computer off and followed the latter outside into the cold night. The streets were littered with bright Christmas lights; people were walking around, enjoying the holiday spirit and ambience. Kuroo couldn’t bring himself to appreciate the atmosphere and fresh air of unfiltered happiness. Suddenly, Oikawa roughly nudged him and motioned towards a stopped cab. 

“I called one, get in and go home. It’s too cold to go by bus.”

Kuroo wanted to rebut but Oikawa’s eyes read  _ try me _ and he moved towards the waiting car. “Thank you, Tooru.” 

“I hate to see you miserable like this, Tetsu.” He hesitated but nonetheless continued. “When you love someone, it’s hard when you go through fights. They could either strengthen a relationship or break it. I’d hate to see the latter happen to you and Kenma.” 

“But Kenma and I aren’t together.” 

“And yet you love each other so much.” Kuroo’s eyes widened at the sight of tears threatening to spill over Oikawa’s face. He made a step towards the man but Oikawa raised his hand. “I’m fine, Tetsu. Or at the very least, I will be. Now go home, get better.” 

Taking one final look at Oikawa, Kuroo obliged his request and entered the cab. The ride was silent and short. He could feel tension spread inside his stomach as he fumbled with his keys to open the door. 

Upon entering the smell of Chinese food hit his nose and he quickly took off his shoes and coat. Going further into the apartment he saw Kenma sitting on the kitchen island and gingerly opening takeout boxes. 

“You ordered takeout?”

Kenma stopped his previous actions and looked up in mild disbelief. “You’re home early.” After a little bit, he added, “And you’re talking to me.”

“I never stopped.” Kuroo audibly scoffed and leaned on the wall. 

“You coming back home late tells me otherwise.” Kenma replied and opened the last box. He dropped on the floor and went to the cabinets to retrieve chopsticks. “Go shower or something. I’ll eat in the meantime and later you can have your own dinner.” 

“What makes you think I want to have dinner alone?” Kuroo straightened from his place and made his way into the kitchen until he was face to face with Kenma on the other side of the kitchen island. “To me, it just seems like you want to eat alone.” 

Undeniably, Kuroo was being a dick. He knew that; perfectly understood it even. He prided himself on being understandable and yet now he was picking a fight for the sake of it. Nothing was going to come out of a petty argument despite that seemed to be all their conversations in the past couple of weeks. He had this nagging voice at the back of his head that day in and day out annoyed him into finally dropping the fight and apologising. The other, admittedly slightly more irrational part of his brain, fed his stubbornness and insisted that Kenma had something to say sorry for. It was a constant fight between the two and while Oikawa served as a great voice of reason, Kuroo’s irrationality had far more leverage. 

Kenma slammed the chopsticks on the flat surface and glared at Kuroo. “Really, you want to go there? I don’t burn with desire to eat alone, either but since you insist on being bullheaded I have no choice, do I?” 

“Bullheaded? I was trying to help you!”

“Is it really help if I never asked for it? If I told you time and time again not to bother and yet you still did?”

Kuroo opened his mouth to rebut but quickly realised he had nothing. The voice at the back of his head grew louder, bordering on screaming and the loud sound rang in his ears like a morning alarm. Perhaps, what he thought he had understood was misinterpreted after all. 

He lowered his eyes and stared at his feet. Kenma sighed with defeat and took in a deep breath afterwards as if he had just run a marathon. As if the storm had finally passed.

“Kuro–,” 

“I… I think I’ll go clear my head.” Kuroo left the kitchen and practically jogged to the entree. He put on his shoes and grabbed his coat with phone and wallet still inside of it. He didn’t expect Kenma to follow him but still found disappointment tracing his mind. Once outside he descended the stairs and dialled on his phone. 

“Oi, Yaku! Are you free by any chance?”


	10. Persona 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated (.❛ ᴗ ❛.)

“Ah, Kuroo, stop blowing smoke in my face!” 

Kuroo giggled with the giddiness of a schoolgirl in love and took a swig from the whiskey in his hand. “Man, previous smokers are so annoyin’. You s’think you’re so great becauuuse ya stopped smoking. Guess what? Ya ain’t!” 

Kuroo duly noted his slurring and proceeded to ignore it for the sake of blowing more smoke in Yaku’s face. He didn’t know how long ago they had made it to the bar. Yaku had picked him up and drove them to Shibuya, maybe; frankly, Kuroo was to busy drowning himself in misery to take in his surroundings. 

The establishment was small and cosy. Admittedly, the alcohol wasn’t that great but considering it allowed its visitors to go outside with their drinks if they wanted to smoke, Kuroo couldn’t complain. He stopped counting his glasses after the third and felt the slight buzz of tipsiness tickle his senses. Suddenly, the terrible mood from earlier had been completely forgotten and faux bliss washed over him. 

“Why did I even agree to go out with you?” Yaku asked more so himself but Kuroo answered anyway. 

“Because you misss me. And Lev’s annoyin’ you.” He took the cigarette with his right hand, which also held his drink, and wrapped Yaku’s shoulders with his left. The latter swayed a little because of the sudden imbalance but Kuroo paid no mind.

“You’re right about the second one. Lev is indeed annoying me but this isn’t about me.” 

“Hmm, then who is it about then?” 

“Kuro–… no, Tetsurou,” Yaku managed to pull of Kuroo’s shoulder and the latter slumped in defeat. “We’re here to talk about you and Kenma.” 

Kuroo scoffed and stubbed out his cigarette in the nearby trashcan. “Kenma this, Kenma that. You’re just like Oikawa.” 

“Kuroo, as your friend–,” 

“No, Yaku. As my friend I don’t need you to be my therapist, I need you to drink with me.” Kuroo proceeded to go back inside but a forceful tug on his sleeve made him turn back around. 

“Listen to me for once because clearly, you’re not going to fix shit by yourself.” 

Yaku grabbed the almost empty glass from Kuroo’s hand and went back inside, leaving the latter outside standing in shock. After a few moments, during which Kuroo lit a new cigarette, Yaku came back and dragged him to the nearby square. Well, perhaps, to call it a square was a little rich– it was one of those small green areas in neighbourhoods with children’s swings. Immediately, they took seats on them and neither spoke at first. Kuroo deeply exhaled smoke and even offered his box to Yaku but he refused with a curt nod.

The swings winced with every movement and the cold wind felt like needles to their faces. Kuroo noticed some dark clouds forming in the sky and he felt a weird wave of comfort wash over him. Semi-sobriety truly wasn’t that great when you have clouds forming in your own mind. 

“Kuroo, what is going on?”

At the same time, Kuroo stood up to throw out the cigarette stub. Kuroo towered above the trashcan and focused his gaze on the garbage inside before finally deciding to return and sat down with a loud thud on the empty swing. Hesitantly, he began speaking and from time to time glanced Yaku’s way. The latter was turned to him, listening intently and with concern written across his features. With newfound relief, Kuroo shared more comfortably, intimately even and by the time he was done he hadn’t realised some rogue tears were running down his cheeks; the warmness colliding with the cold from the wind. Semi-sobriety wasn’t that great when you have pent-up frustrations, Kuroo mused and ended his monologue. 

Yaku didn’t talk at first; he seemed deep in thought as if looking for the perfect solution to give. Kuroo appreciated the sentiment but before he could voice say there was no need, Yaku stopped his train of thought. 

“Well, the way I see it, you just want validation for your feelings and because you’re not getting any you’re taking it out on Kenma.” He paused as if he had said something wrong but soon continued. “When something bad happens to a person, the victim isn’t the only one who suffers but their close ones as well. And because you’ve shut down all of your feelings and frustrations over the past few months for the sake of putting Kenma’s in higher priority, now they’re finally coming out. Like a bomb, kind of.” 

He turned his eyes to Kuroo. The latter felt his eyes widen at the realisations that were being handed to him on a silver platter; an epiphany opening before him like a holy answer to a question he never thought he had wondered upon. He mentioned for Yaku to continue. 

“Both your and Kenma’s feelings are valid. You thought what you were doing was for the best and so did he. Neither of you is wrong, in essence. Just gravely misunderstood.” He raised a curious eyebrow. “And do you know how to fix it?”

Kuroo felt his lips dry up and cursed himself for being a selfish prick; sacrificing his relationship for Kenma, the one thing he held as most precious to his heart, for the sake of being an egoist. “By talking. A lot of talking.” 

Yaku hummed in amusement and a content smile adorned his features. “Want to go home?” 

* * *

Honestly, the alcohol hadn’t completely worn off by the time Yaku dropped him off but Kuroo was at least sober enough to be able to open the door without dropping the keys one too many times. Once inside, he was met with pitch-black darkness and lazily took off his coat and shoes, leaving them scattered across the floor. Gingerly, he made his way down the corridor and silently hoped, for all his reassurances from Yaku, that Kenma was asleep. His wish was all for nought the moment he saw dim light emitting from the thin cleft under the door. He knocked and almost expected no answer but immediately after Kenma opened the door.

“Hey.” 

“You’re back.”

“Can I go in?”

“I don’t know, can you?”And Kenma opened the door wide enough for Kuroo to enter. The latter plopped down on the bed and began fidgeting with his fingers as Kenma sat back down in his gamer chair.

“I’m sorry for lashing out on you.” Kuroo finally settled on after a few moments of silence. “You are right in your own way.” 

“But?” Kenma prompted and leaned back in his chair. Kuroo swallowed thickly having not expected for Kenma to be so vocal tonight. 

“But I need you to understand that I don’t think I was wrong either. Sure, you asked something of me and I didn’t do it but I wouldn’t go back in time and change it. That shitstain deserves every threat and more coming his way. So for that, I will not apologise.” 

Kenma let out a wry chuckle and lifted his gaze to meet Kuroo’s. “I was wondering when you were going to come to this conclusion.” Kuroo lifted a curious eyebrow and Kenma continued. “You care so much about me, Kuro. Don’t think I don’t see it but in the time you spent worrying about my emotions you neglect your own. And I guess you constantly denying them got to me as well. I know you wish me well and I got selfish. So for that, I am sorry.” 

For the second time tonight tears threatened to spill over Kuroo’s features but this time he stopped himself before it went any further. His breath hitched and Yaku and Oikawa’s words from yesterday swam in his mind like fish in the vast ocean. Epiphanies seemed to be his brand tonight. He stood up from his place on the bed and carefully approached Kenma. He pressed his left hand to the latter’s cheek and Kenma leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. 

“Kenma,” He hummed lowly and slowly lowered his head until his and Kenma’s noses were touching, lips mere centimetres away from each other. His breath hit the latter’s skin like a tall wall but before he could go any further Kenma opened his eyes and left Kuroo’s hold. 

“No. Not now.” Kuroo straightened up and towered over the smaller man. “I know your words are sincere but I don’t want to do this while I can still smell alcohol on you.” 

Kuroo’s head dropped but nodded nonetheless. With a resigned sigh, he moved towards the door. “Goodnight, Kenma.”

“Goodnight, Kuro.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaand we're back in action,, almost


	11. The Sims 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters left,, what a journey 
> 
> as always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated (っ˘ω˘ς )

Kuroo woke up with a mild headache which by all means wasn’t that bad considering the amount of alcohol he had consumed the previous night (not that he remembered as much). Bright light was beaming through the open curtains and Kuroo rolled away from the sun. The memories from the previous night drowned his mind like a flood; the conversation with Yaku in the park, his reconciliation with Kenma, the way he held him and leaned close to ki–

Kuroo shot straight up in his bed, breathing heavily. Last night he had almost kissed Kenma. The latter had refused, sure, but on the pretext that Kuroo smelt like alcohol which would mean that under any other normal circumstance it wouldn’t be a problem? Would it be? Kuroo dropped back in his pillow and let out an exasperated muffled scream. His heart was drumming in his ears and almost considered staying in his room for the rest of the day until he heard the bell rang. 

Unwillingly, he got out of bed to open the door but Kenma was already there. Oikawa and Akaashi stood by the entrance and the former was holding a white plastic bag, a huge grin plastered on his face. Kenma motioned them to come in and Kuroo left the boundaries of his room. 

“What are you guys doing here?” Kuroo surprised himself by how hoarse he sounded. His lips were chapped and his mouth was dry; his throat slightly burned, courtesy of the booze and cigarettes from last night. 

“Kenma invited us over.” lazily replied Oikawa as he moved further into the apartment and went inside the kitchen. Akaashi thanked Kenma for the invitation and curtly nodded Kuroo’s way in a form of greeting, following Oikawa’s path. 

“Why did you invite them?” 

“You need someone to nurse you out of your hangover. I’ll be in my room, playing.” responded Kenma and left Kuroo alone in front of his room. 

Hesitantly, Kuroo made the four long steps toward the kitchen and saw Oikawa rummaging through the refrigerator and Akaashi arranging a few medicine packets. 

“You didn’t have to come here.” 

“We’re not here because of you,“ retorted Oikawa and turned to face Kuroo, “but because of Kenma. He called me this morning and sounded really worried. So, Tetsurou, what did you do?” 

Kuroo fell silent, not knowing where to begin. He sat down next to Akaashi near the kitchen island and gratefully accepted the painkiller and glass of water that came with it. Straightening up afterwards in his seat, he began talking– the same story he had told Yaku the previous night with the exception that now it had a conclusion, sort of. Oikawa and Akaashi stayed silent the entire time; only the sounds of the former preparing a light hangover soup filled the cracks Kuroo’s emotions left. 

“So, now what?” prompted Oikawa first, leaving a bowl of scorching soup in front of Kuroo.

“I’m not sure.” replied the latter, gingerly stirring the meal in front of him. “I don’t want to build the false expectation that there is a chance something could happen between us.” He brought a small spoonful to his mouth and flinched when he burned his tongue. Oikawa immediately handed him a glass of water.

“I don’t think you’re building a false expectation,” spoke Akaashi after staying silent the longest since coming over. “I see the way you look at each other. And if Kenma didn’t feel the same way he would’ve left you to your own devices. Instead, he called someone because he cares for you.” 

“There is a fundamental difference between ‘caring’ and ‘loving’.” retorted Oikawa “But I see where you’re going with this.” he turned his face to Kuroo. “Tetsurou, I think you should grow some balls.” 

“Easy for you to say. It’s as you said– there is a difference between care and love. We’ve known each other since forever. It’s only natural we care for each other but that doesn’t mean he loves me. Or, at least in the way I want him to.” The last sentence was more of a whisper than anything else and Kuroo continued stuffing his face with soup after that.

Oikawa let out a deep sigh and leaned on the counter. “You’re impossible honestly. You’ll never know if you don’t try.” Kuroo opened his mouth to retort but Oikawa quickly added. “Oh and miss me with the “What if I make him extremely uncomfortable and he refuses to talk to me afterwards” bullshit. He’s not a child, Tetsu. He can think for himself. Or have you forgotten the first snow ordeal? Or the fact that last night he pulled away himself?”

Oikawa looked at him expectantly, both eyebrows quirked upwards but Kuroo had no reply. Damn Oikawa for making a whole lot of sense. Kuroo nodded obediently and offered a quiet “I’ll try”, hoping his friend wouldn’t hear him. He did. 

“Thank you for doing everyone a service by coming face to face with your feelings. Enough of you.” Oikawa smirked slyly and turned to Akaashi. “Now, Mr. future Bokuto, care to share plans for your wedding?” 

* * *

By the time Oikawa and Akaashi left the sun was slowly setting over the horizon, painting the sky in soft orange and rosy pink. Kuroo’s headache was all but gone and he was left to clean the kitchen and the coffee table in the living room. Apparently, the white plastic bag held more than just medicine. Leftover chip bags and empty coke bottles were quickly disposed of, clean dishes sat neatly on a rack near the sink and Kuroo contently regarded his work. He decided to retreat back to his room until dinner time but Oikawa’s pesky words sat above his head like stormclouds. 

Confronting someone about their feelings about you sounded easier on paper and even more so when it came down to someone you’ve spent your entire life with. The running risk of ruining a valuable relationship sounded like a tragedy in the making. Worry infiltrated Kuroo’s mind like poisonous smoke; Oikawa’s advice and his own anxiety colliding like two titans from ancient greek mythology. 

He took a deep breath to calm his beating heart and stood up from his place in the couch. Perhaps he was overreacting, not to mention, it’s not like such a thing could _completely_ crumble his friendship with Kenma. By all means, it should be fine even if mixed signals confuse the mind and hearts get broken. You can always glue them together like shattered glass, even if by the end of it they are no longer what they used to be.

Hesitantly he knocked on Kenma’s door and entered after a muffled ‘come’. As per usual, the curtains were closed and the room was dimply lit by the led lights on the ceiling. Kenma was sitting criss-cross on his gaming chair, furiously tapping on his computer. Kuroo was mesmerised by Kenma’s vigour and dedication. He always knew games provided comfort for the smaller man; an escape from reality and seeing him so lively made Kuroo’s chest swell with affection. He couldn’t even hear when Kenma called out for him. He had finished his game and taken off his headphones. His piercing eyes sent shivers down Kuroo’s spine. 

And Kuroo hesitated. 

“Are they gone?” 

“I… uhm… yes. A little while back.” Kuroo averted his eyes. “Thank you for calling them.”

“For you, always.” Kuroo's eyes widened at the words. “Isn’t this what you always say when I thank you?”

Kuroo let out a wry chuckle and rubbed his nape. “Yeah, I guess it is.” after a momentary pause, he added “Do you want to order dinner? I was thinking Italian.”

A small smile graced Kenma’s features and Kuroo felt his heart leaping out his ribcage. “Sounds good. Lead the way.” 

Kuroo nervously chuckled and opened the door for both of them to exit the room. _So much for growing a pair._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo the slowburn tag is here for a reason


	12. Fortnite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> longest chapter i've ever written,, 2k words lets gooo; somehow i feel like it is both the best and the worst one i've written lmao 
> 
> as always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated (´• ω •`) ♡

Snow was gently piling outside, covering everything with a white blanket. It was a particularly sunny noon, but the sun didn’t prevent the temperatures from encompassing the celebratory feeling of New Year. Kuroo tried relaxing further into his bed, taking in the last moments of peace before the new year began but the loud voice from the other side of the telephone line begged to differ. 

“ _So what, you’re going to pull a ‘new year, new me’ and then decide to confess to Kenma or?_ ” Oikawa’s words might’ve sounded distant because he had put himself on speaker but they still left a bitter taste in Kuroo’s mouth. 

“No. Well..., “ Kuroo let out a sigh and rolled onto his side. “I just didn’t expect for my time to end so quickly. I talked myself up after you guys left but I panicked and told myself I’m gonna do it tomorrow. And then it was tomorrow but he was so sleepy the entire day because he had pulled an all-nighter and I really didn’t want to bother him. And then the next day came and the next, and the next and next thing I know– it’s been four days and it’s already New Years.” 

“ _To me, it just sounds like excuses._ ” soundly replied Oikawa this time closer to Kuroo’s ear. Looked like he had turned off his speaker. “ _You know, I think you should just–,”_ a sudden crash on the other side of the line took Oikawa aback and after a few moments of muffled voices, he said he had to go and closed the call. 

Kuroo’s hand that held the phone fell limp on his side and he rolled onto his back. He stared outside the window, mulling over Oikawa’s words. It was true that these past days instead of making up his mind he was thinking of excuses to put off the dreaded confession. Fuck, Kuroo felt like a damn schoolgirl half the time and the last time he had been in this position was back in high school when he had a not-so-secret crush on a fellow captain. Thinking back on it, the entire experience was so awkward and embarrassing. He was rejected, of course, the guy had a boyfriend, but it still stung. And the sole fact that they had three more days of training camp left after that felt like a bucket of cold water was being poured over his head. 

It was different now. Kenma wasn’t a simple acquaintance from a friendly team Kuroo had occasional practice with. Kenma was his closest friend; the most precious person in his heart and the thought of things being awkward between the two of them because of some pesky emotions left Kuroo feeling awfully sullen.

Kuroo lightly shook his head back and forth a few times and stood up from his bed. You can’t be gloomy because of love on New Year’s Day. Kenma and he still had to go shopping as they were going to spend it at home; feelings could wait a little longer. Kuroo threw on some warm clothes, made his way to Kenma’s room and gently knocked on it. 

“Kenma, let’s go!”

After a momentary silence, the younger man appeared in his usual dishevelled appearance and threw Kuroo a dirty glance. “Do we have to? I want to finish my game. Go alone.” 

“This will be our final going out for this year, no way I’m letting you play. Go put on some clothes, I’ll wait in the entree.” 

Kenma let out a loud grunt and slammed the door. With a content smile, Kuroo waited the latter finally appeared back out in a thick hoodie and sweats. Kuroo had half a mind to reprimand him for wearing inappropriate clothes for the season but if Kenma’s glare was anything to go by, it was for the best he ended up sparing himself the beating. 

* * *

The sun was gingerly setting over the horizon and the snow had stopped by the time they made it back home. Shopping at the last minute proved to be more of a struggle than initially expected but at least they got enough food to last them a lifetime and Kenma’s gloomy mood from earlier had all but dissipated. 

They left the groceries on the kitchen island and divided their chores. They were going to welcome the new year from the house’s rooftop and needed to prepare lots of blankets, plushies and pillows so they wouldn’t freeze to death. Kuroo left to prepare the rooftop and made Kenma organise the snacks and beverages they had bought. Kuroo found himself at ease now that he wasn’t in such close proximity to Kenma. 

During their shopping spree, the smaller man seemed awfully close and Kuroo couldn’t tell whether the brushes of his hand and the closeness of his entire body was deliberate or not. All he was aware of was the heat in his face and the panicked messages he sent Oikawa who, in true Oikawa fashion, laughed at his misery and sent a few informative articles about karma. 

“Asshole,” muttered Kuroo under his breath upon remembering the texts from his friend. When Kenma shot him a confused glance he only awkwardly smiled and waved off the comment. “Want to start preparing dinner? I don’t know about you but I’m starving.” 

“It’s too early for dinner.” 

“Yes, and we have a plethora of junk food for later. If we eat dinner now, we’ll have space for later.” 

Kenma reluctantly agreed, clearly not completely on board with the explanation, and began pulling ingredients from the refrigerator for their annual New Years meal– onigiri, yakisoba and Kenma’s favourite apple pie, which due to poor cooking abilities they had bought from the store. 

* * *

At around fifteen to twelve they made their way to the rooftop with snacks and beverages in hand. A light breeze cut through the otherwise cold air and they were quick to warp themselves in blankets and surround themselves with plushies and pillows. The night was quiet and the distant cries of joy filled the empty atmosphere around them. 

“You think we ate too much yakisoba? I still feel full.” prompted Kenma and hunched forward, eyes focused on the sky above them. 

“I feel pretty good. Currently tempted to open the salt and vinegar chips.” 

Kenma let out a disgusted noise and turned his head to Kuroo. “How can you eat these things? Everyone knows sour cream are the best.” 

“I beg your pardon?” Kuroo gasped dramatically and clutched his heart in faux disbelief. “Salt and vinegar chips are the best things to happen since the invention of sliced bread. Everyone knows that. Don’t be ignorant.” 

“I’m not ignorant, I’m simply honest. Ask Akaashi, he’ll back me up.” 

“As if Akaashi has an even vague understanding of the exquisiteness of chip flavours.” 

“Fine, fine. Eat whatever you want. As long as you brush your teeth before kissing me.” 

The last sentence was mostly muffled by the plushie Knema was hugging. Kuroo could’ve sworn he hadn’t heard correctly until he noticed the furious blush gracing Kenma’s mostly-hidden face. Kuroo’s stomach made a few olympian-worthy flips and he hesitantly grabbed the bag of chips. It laid in his hands until he left it to the side and opted to take a swig from the minty drink he had poured himself earlier. Better be self than sorry. 

He shook his head at his own gullibility. Some more rational part of his brain tried to reason he had in fact misheard but the heart wants what it wants. And at that moment Kuroo’s wanted nothing more than to feel Kenma’s plush lips on top of his own. 

He moved the slightest bit closer to where Kenma was sitting and grabbed a plushie from the side. It was a calico cat because of course, it was. He let out a wry chuckle and shook his head. 

“What is it?” Kenma’s soft voice broke the comfortable silence. 

Kuroo turned his head to meet Kenma’s eyes and his smile grew wider and the sight of the black cat plushie in Kenma’s lap. “Nothing, nothing. I was just wondering what Oikawa was up to. Apparently, Iwaizumi and he have made-up and are celebrating together.” 

“Not for long probably, as sad as it sounds. Oikawa deserves so much more.” mused Kenma, gaze once again lost somewhere up in nonexistent clouds. 

“Indeed he does but love forces people to do things that aren’t good for them.” 

“More like coerce.” Kenma shifted his body and lited his shoulders. “I just hope he wakes up.” 

“Is it really so bad, tho?” retorted Kuroo and began mindlessly stroking the mock cat. “Supposedly love is worth all the pain.” 

“If it’s the right person, then yes. But Iwaizumi isn’t no matter how much Oikawa tries to delude himself.” 

Kuroo hummed in amusement. The question ‘am I the right person for you’ hung in the air like a valuable painting in a museum but he didn’t have the will to ask it. Instead, he carefully regarded Kenma and silently hoped the affection in his eyes was visible in the night. 

“Two minutes left.” whispered Kenma as the bright screen of his phone illuminated his face. His golden eyes were glistening like every star in the universe was swimming in them and Kuroo’s breath got caught in his throat. 

A premature firework shot in the sky, dispersing in bright red lights. Kuroo almost immediately turned to Kenma to catch his reaction but the latter was already looking at him. Kuroo couldn’t decipher the glimpse in Kenma’s eyes and he could only hope it meant something other than mild boredom. 

Kenma gingerly shifted his body until he completely faced Kuroo and stood upon his knees to match the latter’s height. Hesitantly he brought his hands forward until he cupped Kuroo’s face. 

Kuroo felt like his heart was about to burst; no, his entire body felt like it was on fire and he forgot how to breathe for a few very long heartbeats. Kenma’s head leaned in until their faces were centimetres apart and if it weren’t from the adrenaline rush Kuroo might’ve passed out. 

“Kuro?” 

He only found in himself to nod. 

The first thing that shot signals to his frontal cortex was the fact that Kenma’s lips were extremely soft. Surprisingly so, considering the minuscule amount of water he consumed on a daily basis. The second was the hesitance with which they sat on top of his but Kuroo’s a patient man; he didn’t go further. The third and significantly less important thing was the sound of fireworks in the distance but unlike the previous two things, he didn’t write and highlight it like a piece of paper in his mind. The fourth and final one was the coldness he felt when Kenma broke their caress. 

“Kenma–,” 

“I found myself getting better throughout all these months you were next to me and I want to thank you, Kuro, for all of it.” Kenma took a sharp breath, his hands never leaving Kuroo’s cheeks but his eyes were glued to the ground. “I don’t think I would’ve gotten to this point without you. And I wish to continue to get better, grow better.”

“With you by my side.” He added shortly after and finally looked up. “I don’t know how ready I am but I think it is only fair that I show you how I feel.” 

Kuroo was left speechless; completely and utterly and the only thing he could do at the time was to bring up his arms and gently wrap them around Kenma’s figure. The latter nuzzled his head in the crook of Kuroo’s neck and he gently caresses it. They stayed like this until the fireworks stopped and Kuroo’s mind wasn’t fogged by tantalising emotion. 

“You have no reason to thank me. I thought it was fairly obvious that I would swim through the entire Atlantic ocean for you.” 

Kenma lifted his head and quirked a distasteful eyebrow. “Don’t get cheesy or I’ll dump you.” 

Kuroo mimicked his actions from earlier with the mock disbelief and muttered under his breath how unfair it was he was getting mocked for his emotions. He lifted his head to give Kenma a piece of his mind but the latter wasn’t paying attention and was instead, looking fondly at the sky. 

“Kuro, it’s snowing.” 

Kuroo lifted his eyes up to the sky and let a small smile spill over his features, all faux hurt leaving his body. He grabbed one of Kenma’s hands and gently squeezed it. “Indeed, it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter is the epilogue wow i cant believe it's almost over


	13. Final Fantasy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i might just cry lmao 
> 
> as always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated (´ ω `♡)

Kuroo waited patiently outside the small office building for Kenma to come out. Cool breeze tousled his hair and the alluring sensation of summer tickled his senses. The sky was high up, glowing over the crowds of people in the city centre and the urban noises. Despite all that, Kuroo found himself relaxing, taking in the adverse peacefulness of a lively city in the summer heat. A sudden tug at his sleeve forced him to open his eyes. Kenma was facing him, fixing his hair underneath a black cap.

“You didn’t have to wait for me. Your lunch break is ending soon.” 

Kuroo chuckled lightly and took Kenma’s hand in his. “I’m sure Oikawa wouldn’t mind. Especially now since Akaashi came back from his honeymoon.” 

Kenma hummed in response and they began walking down the busy street, trying not to bump into random people. They made a few sharp turns once they were out of the huge crowd and followed a lonely street behind some small office buildings. 

“So how did it go today, hm? Any new interesting revelations?” prompted Kuroo and glanced at Kenma. 

“Well, apparently I’m getting better at dealing with my commitment issues so there’s that. I scheduled an appointment for next week as well.”

“You seem to have taken a liking to this lady. What was her name again? Kyouka?” 

“Kyoko. And, yes. She seems to genuinely try to understand me, unlike Mika.” 

“That’s good to hear.” Kuroo made an abrupt stop and motioned towards the entrance of their destination. Wooden letters that spelt out in a neat font ‘Onigiri Miya’ covered a vast majority of the otherwise glass door. Inside, a mop of bleached hair was running around the tables delivering food and taking orders. “We’re here.” He opened the door and let Kenma go inside first. The bell above them signalled their arrival and Atsumu waved at them hurriedly before scurrying off to the back of the restaurant. Osamu motioned them to come to the open bar-kitchen which was the only place without people sitting. 

“So this is the famous onigiri place, huh?” mused Kenma as he was taking in his surroundings. 

“The one and only.” happily replied Osamu and took out some ingredients from the fridge underneath him. “The usual, Tetsurou?” 

The latter nodded and turned his head to regard Kenma. He was looking around like a small child in an amusement park and Kuroo’s heart swelled with fondness. Looking back on the road they had started a little over a year ago felt like hundreds of light-years away. The ups and downs, the boulders they had to move from their path to continue forward were all but a different lifetime ago; an alternate universe. What they had now was like the connection between the stars and the sky– endlessly tied together; one couldn't be without the other. They had made it out together on the other side of the shipwreck; through all the sadness and with so much love to give. They weren’t perfect but right now, Kuroo mused, this was as close as one could possibly get. 

He leaned his head onto his right hand and with his left, he gingerly took in Kenma’s. The latter didn’t turn around, instead, he squeezed their hands and brought them to sit in his lap. 

_Or, just maybe, they were even better than the stars and the sky._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every time i finish a story i feel kinda weird; you know the feeling when you finish a good anime and you feel empty inside afterwards? yeah, this is what i'm feeling rn  
> i understand there's a lot of room for improvement (more like a stadium) but i wanted to thank everyone for reading, following and supporting this fic,, you have no idea how much comments mean to me - to read someone is enjoying what i put out in the world, definitely makes me feel better especially in moments when i feel like i'm not good enough  
> i hope some of you will continue to support the "love is an art form series" but even if you don't thank you for being here  
> in the small chance of wanting to talk to me or ask me questions, this is my [tumblr](https://vessmoi.tumblr.com/)
> 
> i hope you have a great day/ night!! ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡


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